Bravery?

The Brave One is about a woman whose fiance' is killed in a Central Park mugging while they are walking their dog. Shaken by grief and disturbed by her new fear of the city, she buys a gun and ends up using it--repeatedly--to "right wrongs" and defend herself and others. The problem: she no longer recognizes herself and realizes that her fiance' wouldn't have liked who she's become, either. But she can't stop. She keeps killing and killing to try to regain a sense of safety, peace, justice, and rightness in the world. In an interview last week Jodie Foster (the star) stated that the title was misleading--she doesn't consider her character brave at all. Her self-defense turns into vengeance and vigilante "justice."

It can only be considered justice if it is acceptable for us as individuals to punish those who have hurt us. Conventional Christian wisdom states that we should wait for a higher power, i.e. God or the police, to right our wrongs, and that true faith is a belief that God ultimately will let justice be done and that he is the only truly fair, impartial judge. We are not, in this line of thinking. However, it's hard to not want to take matters into your own hands.

When your safety has been shaken, either by something physically traumatic, like being attacked, or something emotionally traumatic (related to our upbringing or past relationships), it is so easy to become like the character of Erica. You feel a need to establish your own safety, to protect yourself by any means. You start making preemptive strikes to prevent harmful situations from even occurring. You take out the full measure of "justice" on people whether physically or emotionally.

I see this clearly in myself--when I feel mistreated, I lash out (even when the perpetrator doesn't realize that I am). I feel the right to get vengeance, to teach them a lesson--you can't get away with this--and to protect my own sense of safety. But watching this movie, I realized I don't want to be like her. I don't want to take matters into my own hands, meting out punishments to those around me when they fall short of my expectations (as happens often). I don't want to be that vengeful, resentful, angry person. I don't want to not be able to recognize myself, to not be able to trust others, to hurt others in the name of justice. You become a person characterized primarily by violence, the desire to hurt others. That flies completely against the Golden Rule, mercy, and compassion. I don't understand why they did these things to hurt me, but if I hurt and destroy them before even trying to find out, it's like I'm saying they're not worthy of love or forgiveness--and consequently neither am I, since I know I perpetrate as well.

It's so hard to break out of this cycle--Erica in the movie found it impossible. But last night I also read this: "my grace is sufficient for you; my strength is made perfect in your weakness."

Critics

I'm going to swear off rottentomatoes.com for a while. Recently, I saw The Nanny Diaries and Stardust, two movies which I wholeheartedly enjoyed, and partially because I thought they had artistic merit. However, both of these movies got lukewarm and even negative reviews (along with some good ones). I started to question my trust in "the critics" or "the reviewers."

It always bothers me when people are overly critical of a movie or a book that I like. It's usually a movie that's funky, different, and maybe even silly or "unsophisticated"--but creative. I interpret their dislike as a sort of snobbish disapproval. I had a thought today. Could it be that these critical people fear creativity? Is their intense criticism of others' work indicative of a paralyzing criticism that has been first directed at themselves? What takes more courage--being a critic or being creative?

I think critics have a valid role in society--without them, artists might not know how to improve their work, and audiences wouldn't know where to go for good literature or film. Critics often shed light on the deeper meaning of a work by putting in the time to analyze it. They teach us how to more deeply enjoy our movie-watching and book-reading at times. In grad school for literature, my role is like a critic--to analyze and sometimes evaluate what I see or read.

However, I think being a creative person in our society takes more bravery than being a critic. Creative people have to take risks; they have to get past their fears of criticism from others. They have to stop criticizing themselves enough to be creative, too. They are brave--and because they are brave, we benefit. And then we tear them apart. I'm not saying critics aren't smart, capable people. But do they ever wish they made movies or wrote novels? Do they dream of being creative? Or do they satisfy themselves with cleverly criticizing the shortcomings of creative people? Are they compensating for their non-creativity?

In the book The Artists' Way, Julia Cameron talks about this phenomenon: "blocked artists" over-criticize creative efforts because they are jealous of them and fearful that they couldn't do the same. I know I feel a pang of jealousy whenever I hear of a an actively creative person, especially one I know or who is close to my age. I desperately want to do the same, but, of course I am too critical of myself to even start. If we would stop criticizing other people's creative efforts, we might stop criticizing our own and free ourselves to start taking risks.

I don't think any artistic work done by human hands is going to be perfect, but I want to honor people that do them. I want to try doing them myself, and give myself safety to be imperfect. I want to learn from people who are doing it, and let myself enjoy their work without nitpicking it. That doesn't mean not raising valid points of disagreement or critique; but it does mean finding the best in every movie or book and allowing myself to be a little freer. I think I'd rather be creative than a critic; it seems both happier and more helpful to others.